


revelation, revolution

by kay_emm_gee



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, F/M, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-15
Updated: 2017-03-15
Packaged: 2018-10-05 09:08:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10303145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kay_emm_gee/pseuds/kay_emm_gee
Summary: The battle screamed around her, nightmares in the sky and dreams bleeding on the ground. Hybern had rained hell down upon them, and it felt like she and her friends were trying to hold up the entire universe on their bloodied backs. In a way, they were. The world as they knew it–a flawed world, but a better one than Hybern’s–would end tonight if they didn’t defeat his army.Jurian stood across from her, hate searing his face into an ugly sneer.{ Prompt: 'Hey I saw you were looking for prompts so could you do a feysand one wherw they are in a battle and feyre gets wounded maybe fighting tamlin or jurian in front of Rhys' }





	

The sword felt heavy in her hand, and Feyre didn’t like it. She didn’t like the way her arm trembled, her fingers went numb. She wanted her bow, because she knew that weapon, knew how to use it when she was injured.

She didn’t know if she could swing a sword with an injured arm.

But she didn’t have her bow, just the sword, so she didn’t have a choice. Feyre just gripped the cold hilt tighter. 

The battle screamed around her, nightmares in the sky and dreams bleeding on the ground. Hybern had rained hell down upon them, and it felt like she and her friends were trying to hold up the entire universe on their bloodied backs. In a way, they were. The world as they knew it–a flawed world, but a better one than Hybern’s–would end tonight if they didn’t defeat his army.

Her next obstacle stood across from her, hate searing his face into an ugly sneer. Jurian viewed her as worse than the Fae, because she had once been like him. She had once been human, and now she wasn’t. She was everything he feared, because she embraced her Fae identity and powers. If she stood standing at the end of this confrontation, it would be more of a loss to him than if Fae overran the Wall and killed every human in existance. So Feyre gripped her sword tighter because there wasn’t just hate in his eyes, there was death. Her death.

She had too much to live for though, and so she hoisted her sword higher and charged. Jurian met her full force, and she felt the vibration from their clashing swords down in her bones. It was so strong that she half-expected the earth to crack in two right underneath their feet. The blades screeched and scratched against one another. Sparks flew off, and Feyre swore she could feel her hair stand on end from them. It was either that, or the fear at the viciousness of Jurian’s movements. He was deadly, precise, and she was tired.

She had so much to fight for, but she was tired. She had been fighting for so long, long before she was Fae. Feyre was tired, and for just one time, she couldn’t move fast enough to get out of the way of his blade. It ripped up her side, and she screamed. Collapsing onto the ground, she clutched at the wound, feeling hot blood wash smear dirt and sweat off of her cracked hands. She gasped, pressing against flow, dazedly wondering why she was bothering to staunch the bleeding when a death blow was a sword strike away.

It didn’t come. 

A deafening, furious roar echoed through the smoking and death-filled battlefield, and relief unfurled in her chest. _Rhys. Rhys had come to save her._

That warm, uncurling relief spilled over into a hundred threads that wrapped themselves around her bones, threaded  into her muscles, tightened around her shaken resolved. The presence of her mate stitched her back together, just as her Fae powers began to stitch her flesh back together. As she stood–wound still stabbing with almost unbearable pain–she glanced at the now restrained Jurien. 

Her enemy thrashed and shrieked, but Rhys was stronger. In fact, he was strong enough that he could’ve ended the threat to their safety while Feyre was still on the ground. Feyre prowled closer, hand reaching to her belt. Rhys could have done that, could have killed Jurian and then picked her up and spirited her away from the battle to heal in peace.

But none of them would know peace while Jurian lived, while his hatred lived. So Rhys hadn’t killed him, because he knew it wasn’t _his_  kill. 

“May your soul find some peace in the next life, and may you never disrupt the peace of the innocent ever again,” Feyre proclaimed as she reached him.

He glared up at her with venom, and she glared down at him with condemnation. The hate never left his eyes, not even to be replaced with fear as she drew the dagger–the one Amren had made specially for her, specially for this moment–from her belt. The hate remained as she raised the dagger high, as she brought it down swiftly to slice his neck wide open. Feyre saw hate in his eyes even as they fluttered shut. 

She didn’t feel anything as his body went limp against Rhys’, not even hate. Not her wound, not her exhaustion, not her searing need for this war to be over. It wasn’t until something tipped her head up that she began to sense a tug. A whisper here, a brush of skin on hers there, a pull beneath her sternum that was gentle, then firm, then insistent.

_**Don’t you leave me.** _

Rhys’ voice was desperate and pleading in her head, and she gasped as sensation–good, bad, painful, lovely–flooded her all at once.

“I know you’re tired, but we’re not done,” he murmured against her temple.

For a second, Feyre contemplated sagging against him, letting the tears and terror overtake her. But she felt his warm hand squeezed hers; she felt him pull her close through their bond. 

“We’re not done,” she replied, voice turning to steel as she looked up at him with resolution.

She was bleeding, and so was he, but they were not broken. They still had a war to win, and the only way they would do it was together.


End file.
